Passion
by frankielouwho
Summary: Inspired by one-worded prompts from my readers. Beth x Daryl. Smutty, fluffy, angsty one-shots in varying genres and length. Submit your own prompts!
1. PASSION

**Passion: **_a term applied to a very strong feeling about a person or thing. Passion is an intense emotion compelling, enthusiasm, or desire for anything._

**Part One: Passion**

_I'm on the fire but what can I do?_

_I'm singing in the choir but I'm lookin' at you._

_I'll be outside pick me up after school, baby blue._

_Baby blue._

Beth carried her secret close to her chest, tucked against her breast like the locket necklace her mother had given her. Every time her eyes skittered across the crowded mess hall, landing on the tall, dark man with the messy hair and the eyes like blue velvet, her heart would stutter, clench, and begin to race. Her hands were shaky, palms clammy, and the way her stomach fluttered and flipped reminded her of the tilt-a-whirl at the county fair when she was a kid. One time, after the _first time_, their eyes clashed, blue on blue, and Beth had dropped the metal pan she had been holding. It clattered to the floor, halting conversation and drawing eyes to her burning cheeks.

After that, she was careful.

Careful was becoming her middle name.

It was late at night, after Judith would fall asleep in her mail-crate bassonette, rosy-cheeked and peaceful, that Beth would slip out of bed. It was risky, but she was quiet as a church mouse as she moved through the cell-block. The soft lighting from the moon slipping through the windows, slanting over the catwalk and cells, was her only help as she stole out of their stone home. It was always chilly, and even in the middle of the summer she would wrap a sweater over her pajamas. Walking the tombs at night was creepy enough without a chill whispering down her spine.

Thankfully, no one had caught her yet. Beth wasn't sure _what_ she would say if someone stumbled upon her in the middle of the night, in the dark. They weren't supposed to go off exploring on their own, and she wasn't the adventurous type. Maybe Maggie could get away with being on her own in the dark, echoing corridors of the prison. But not Beth. Everyone considered her a little girl, one of those who needed protection. It seemed to be an unspoken rule throughout the prison, she thought bitterly. _Beth can't fight. Beth can't shoot. In the event of emergency, make sure that __**Beth**__and the children are protected._

But she wasn't a child. And while she wasn't strong and brave, like Maggie, or skilled and graceful like Michonne, Beth was somewhat confident that if the prison was over-run by walkers or attacked by the governor, again, that she would be able to take care of herself. And the children. Which she definitely was not one of.

_He_ didn't think of her as a child. And, as she slipped into the unused office room, the one that had become _theirs_, she was pretty damn sure that he would make sure she was safe. Taken care of. Her and Lil Asskicker.

The room was smoky, even with one window cracked. It was pitch black, save for the snatch of moonlight and the orange-glowing tip of Daryl's cigarette. Leaning against the windowsill, he was the picture of cool. Dark hair, dirty and tangled, stubble on his chin and cheeks. He was wearing a pair of black, ripped-up jeans with a sleeveless black T-shirt and his leather vest on top of that. His strong arms were folded over his chest, and one boot crossed the other casually. Beth sucked in a breath at the sight of him. His presence always did this to her, sent her into a heady state of arousal and affection that blurred and swirled within her. Heat spread from her core, making her ache with want and yearn for his touch.

"Yer late," Daryl said. Beth was thankful for the dark as blush stained her pale cheeks pink, and she stepped further into the room. There was a big desk in the middle of the room, flanked by two leather couches that were squat and not extremely comfortable looking. The typical corporate office kind of furniture. The old roller-chair, wooden and high-backed, was to the left of the desk, near the second window that Daryl wasn't occupying. There were papaers scattered on the dark scarlet rug, and a few framed awards and diplomas hung on the wall.

"Sorry," she murmured. Beth stepped to the desk, and Daryl stood behind it. For an instant, Beth was transported back to the principal's office in her high school, where she'd been in this position only once. After getting busted skipping P.E. class - she held in a smile at the memory, knowing it wasn't the time or place. _He_ didn't need another reminder that only a year ago she had been a high school senior, getting ready to go to college...

Beth didn't know when Daryl had graduated school, didn't even know if he _had_. But she didn't want to remind him of the age difference between the two of them. Didn't want to give him any kind of reason to push her away. That's why they were secret, that's why they were creeping around in the darkness of the night. People wouldn't understand, and Beth didn't want to give the folks in the prison any reason to look badly on Daryl. He did so much, probably _too_ much to keep them fed and safe - what he did in the privacy of his own time shouldn't have mattered. It did, though.

When Zach had first started sniffing around, Beth had been wary. They - that is, she and Daryl - had already had this flirtation. There was already a sizzle to air when their eyes would meet, and Beth was enthralled. At night time, she would lay in her cell bed, listening to the sounds of the people going to bed in the prison. But her mind was always wrapped up in him, what he was doing, what he was thinking... Daryl was a plague in her mind, a disease there was no cure for. Once the realization hit her, some random day a few months ago, that not only was Daryl Dixon a good man, a better man than many she had ever known - not only was he their protector, their savior, but he was _handsome_.

"What're you grinnin' about?" Daryl asked, but the corners of his lips were lifted and Beth knew he was teasing. She didn't reveal the memory, seeing him walking from digging graves, sweaty and grumpy. The way that his sea-blue eyes had snapped to her, raking her from head to toe without a word before his lips cocked in a crooked smile... His hair was greasy, his clothes were stained and dirty and ripped. But in that moment, the sun glaring down on his tan skin, Beth had felt her knees weaken. It was the first time, in a very long time, that someone had looked at her like that. Like she was a _woman_. And while he didn't exactly woo her from that day forward, she felt the nearly imperceptible shift in their relationship. Daryl started stopping by her cell, under the guise of visiting with Judith. He started finding reasons to hang around her, to see her, talk to her. Not that he talked a lot, but still. It was a change, and Beth relished in it.

By the time Zach made his intentions clear, Beth was already sleeping with Daryl. But she played along, because she knew that it made sense. Of course she should be flirting with this young college kid. Of course - he was close to her age, cute in a boyish, fun way. He was sweet. He was funny. But he wasn't Daryl. The prison community was happy about their relationship, joking about their puppy love and Beth's shy, guarded smiles - while Zach was quick to declare his love, to try and get physical, Beth was portrayed as sweet and innocent. No one thought it was weird when she pushed his hands away and ducked out of the way of his kisses. It was _sweet_. Little did they know, her nights were spent wrapped around Daryl, legs about his hips and locked behind his back, her fingers threaded through his hair and his hard cock thrusting into her.

Yes, she was _shy_. _Innocent_.

Now, Beth shook her head and leaned across the desk, splaying her hands on the smooth, varnished table-top. She smiled coyly at him, biting her lower lip, and enjoyed the soft groan that sounded from Daryl's throat. The noises he made were delicious.

"Gonna stand there all night?" she asked, laying it on thick with her sugary-sweet southern drawl. Daryl grunted in response, cocked an eyebrow at her. She licked her lips, getting impatient. "Or do I gotta do all the work?"

The way his eyes pierced through her made Beth shiver in delightful anticipation. His gaze was purely predatory, and the deliberate, careful way he stalked around the edge of the desk said more than any of the quiet, grunted words he spoke would. He wasn't like this all the time, but when he was... Oh, Beth was growing more excited by the breath. When he came around her, standing behind her silently and watching her for the smallest reaction, Beth knew she was gone. Only one man had ever made her feel this way, could make her heart skip a beat before racing. Could make her stomach coil and heat to spread over her entire body, leaving her like melted butter. She wanted to moan before he even touched her. It wasn't fair, but it was heavenly.

"I'll put you ta work, girl," Daryl mumbled, closer to her ear than she expected. Beth flinched in surprise, and didn't see the sneer that curled his lips. Yes, Daryl was a hunter. And Beth was the finest prey.

_will you or won't you do anything to have me?_

_will you or won't you do anything to love me?_

_'cause I'm a bad girl with a good plan_

_bank across the street, you're a dangerous man_

_they ask you who's sweet, you tell them I am, baby blue._

_Baby blue._

Daryl waited. He was good at it, something he did a lot of when he was alone in the woods surrounding their prison sanctuary. He was good at a lot of things, but holding still, being absolutely silent - his life and safety had depended on it as a child, and as a grown man, it was something he had down to an art form. He could sneak up on a deer, could sneak up on a walker. His favorite was sneaking up on his girl.

Not that he was sneaking now. She knew full well he was behind her, but he took in her tense form appreciatively. There was something about her... Tiny, fragile little Beth Greene, the farmer's daughter. Her blonde hair spilled down between her shoulders in a high ponytail, and her long legs were encased in jeans so tight they had to be painted on. She was thin, almost painfully so, but the flair of her bottom was exactly what Daryl liked. He'd always been an ass guy, and Beth's was perfection. He could stare at her all day - had been staring all day, every day. If he was honest with himself...

Delicately, or as delicately as Daryl could manage, he ran his fingers down her arms, dragging the light sweater she wore down. He dropped it unceremoniously to the ground, mindless of anything but revealing more of her smooth, porcelain skin. She was peaches and cream, all the way.

Daryl didn't miss the sharp inhale of breath as he stroked his fingertips lightly up her arm. She shivered under his touch, and he grinned at the back of her head. Didn't know _why_ a woman like her would react to a man like him the way she did, but he loved it. Every sweet little whimper, each breathy whisper of his name... All the sounds that fell from her pink lips made him harder, hungrier. Made him want her from some deep, dark place within himself that he'd never tapped before. Emotions that he hadn't known he was capable of surfaced with Beth, and it scared and fascinated him at the same time.

Why her? Hadn't thought much of her when they first met. She had a boyfriend then, seemed so much younger. But then Shane had gone off the deep end, ripping open the barn doors and revealing the secret that was hidden there. When the walkers started piling out, free and groaning, blindly grasping and feeling their way towards their food... She'd fallen to pieces. She lost her damn mind. But when she woke up from that weird state she'd been in - Daryl hadn't gone in to see her, had no place sittin' with a little girl that was upset about everything that was going on around her - tried to kill herself... Daryl thought she was dumb. Just another stupid blonde, like Andrea, who couldn't survive the death and horror that was their lives.

But time went on. Things changed. _She_ changed.

Gone was the frightened little kid from Hershel's farm, and in her place was a strong, confident woman. She went from kid to woman overnight in his mind, taking care of the kids and running their homestead. She was dependable, she was stable, and she did a hell of a lot more than people gave her credit for.

Daryl pressed a soft kiss to the side of her neck, feeling the tension slip from her muscles. Beth was never fully relaxed until his hands were on her, his mouth and his tongue touching her. She was funny, like that. Daryl liked it.

"Been waitin' all day for this," he murmured into her skin. Didn't know why she brought out the honesty in him. It was a weakness that he allowed himself. Beth wouldn't go tellin' nobody about what he said - no one knew '_they_' were a thing. No one knew.

"Me too," she whispered. "I missed you." It was phrased like she was guilty, admitting a wrong, and Daryl frowned at her shoulder before continuing. He kissed his way across the back of her neck, inhaling the sweet smell of her hair. Whatever shampoo she used was fruity, floral. Smelled so good. Daryl's hands ghosted down her sides, slipping under the light camisole she wore. Her skin was the softest thing, and he couldn't get enough. When he finalled yanked the material over her head, leaving her bare on the top half, Daryl gave in and pulled her around to face him. Her small breasts were so perky, nipples already hard and begging to be tasted. The expression on her face was one of pure lust; heavy eyelids, parted, moist lips, flushed cheeks. His fingers bit into the flesh of her waist, pulling her closer.

"Daryl," she whimpered, making him smile before ducking his head and kissing her for the first time of the night. She was instantly pressed against him, clawing at his vest in an attempt to get it off him. The buttons popped off his shirt as she tore it open, moaning into his mouth. It was like this almost every time. Daryl loved every ounce of passion that made love to him with. It was like a roman candle, all bright sizzling explosions of light and sound. He was addicted to the sensations of her skin sliding against his, her lips on his or any other part of his body. The way she bent and arched and panted. Everything that was Beth was never half-way. She didn't do anything by halves. She threw her whole self into things, into _him_, and it stole his breath away.

"Hold on, girl," Daryl said, chuckling quietly as she scrambled to scoot back on the desk. He stood between her legs, pressing her thighs apart with his hips and hands as his head ducked down to draw one of her pebbled nipples into his mouth. He loved the slight weight of her breast in his hands, loved the way she crooned as he suckled and licked and bit. She yanked his hair, pushed his head into her skin. She smelled like vanilla and sugar and sweet. She tasted much the same.

"Come on," Beth groaned, pulling his head back. He scraped his teeth over her nipple, making her gasp before releasing it. "I want you, Daryl - please, _please_."

That was more than enough for him. "Take ya pants off," he commanded, and Beth was quick to comply. They both scrambled and unbuttoned flies, toed off shoes and divested of underwears. Once they were finally naked in the pale moonlight, Daryl was harder than ever - though he thought that nearly every time he was alone with the small blonde. His erection was pointed directly at her, the pink slit between her shapely legs that beckoned to him. Their lips met for a second time, and Beth seemed to pour all of her sweet soul into his mouth, kissing him like her life depended on it. Daryl's hands cupped her round cheeks, kissing her back as ardently as he could. He felt her hands on his manhood, grasping and squeezing and making him hiss, breaking off the kiss roughly.

"Please." Her big eyes gazed up at him beneath thick, dark lashes. When she looked at him like that, something inside of Daryl snapped. He couldn't deny her anything, not when she was looking up at him so... So honestly, so trusting. He pressed her thighs open further with one hand and grasped his length with the other. He stroked a few times, sliding over the slickness between her folds. She gasped when his dick rubbed over the bundle of nerves at the top of her pussy. He grinned, but took pity on her. Finally, after teasing the both of them, he pressed into her opening. Beth's breath hitched, she was gasping, and then they were both moaning as he sank into her.

Daryl was certain that nothing in the world felt better than Beth's pussy. Soft, tight, hot, and wet. It was heaven, it was better than heaven, and he wanted to be buried inside of her all the fucking time. If he had his way... He'd chain her up to a bed and she'd be naked all the time, always ready for him.

Her nails bit into the scarred flesh of his back, and he threw back his head as he moved, painfully slow, within her. He pulled back, nearly all the way out, before slamming into her again. She jolted with the force but the only sounds she made were those of pleasure. She was clawing at him, squeezing his shoulders and pulling on his hair. He loved the way she went wild, lost control. She cussed and panted and moaned and made passionate, impossible promises and it was so much, so much. Daryl had never expected to have much of anything in the way of love in his life, and he was getting more than he deserved from the small blonde. It was in the way she spoke to him, how she looked at him. In the frenzied way she came apart beneath him, moaning his name and telling him she loved him, loved him, loved him.

He wouldn't last long. Not that it was a surprise - the first time was always quick, for both of them. After the thought flittered through his mind, swirled with a lusty haze of curse words and tinged with love, he felt her tensing beneath him. Couldn't help the grin that spread over his face. Couldn't help but hold onto her hips tighter, speeding up his brutal thrusts. She was grunting and groaning with every stroke, her body taught like a piano wire. Finally, when he felt like he was going to lose it, she climaxed. It was always a beautiful sight, Daryl mused.

Head thrown back, the smooth, pale column of her throat exposed, chest heaving with the heavy breaths. Her tummy muscles clenched, her pussy pulsed around him and the wetness that was already there flooded around his hard cock.

"Fuck," Daryl swore. He was wildly thrusting into her, losing his rythym and giving in to the sensation of _Beth_. The scent and taste and feel of her. He bit her throat, sucking and nipping and licking, as his body jerked and his seed spilled into her tight, throbbing channel. She stroked her hands over his heated, slick skin.

Daryl lifted her, cupping her ass in his big hands and staggered over to the couch, where he collapsed with her in his lap. He was still half-way inside of her, and she moaned at the sensation as he slipped fully out. Maybe disappointed. But her face was turned into the crux of his neck and shoulder, and her fingers traced over his chest dreamily. The contented sight that left her lips was enough to make him relax, too.

"That was... _passionate_," Beth said after a long while of quiet. Daryl chuckled, surprised at her statement. Surprised, but he still agreed. It was true.

"Been too long," Daryl said, and that was all the explination he could give. He kissed the top of her head, tightening his arms around her slender frame.

"It's always too long," Beth murmured, cuddling into his arms. He nodded, agreeing again. She was always right. "You think you can go again?"

Daryl laughed outright, making her giggle as well as he jostled her around. "Ya gonna be the death of me, girl," he said, before pulling her in for another long, _passionate_ kiss. With her in his arms, there was no question of _if_ he could go again. Just when.

***FIN***

**Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to AMC/Robert Kirkman & Co. Lyrics belong to Lana Del Rey from the song "Baby Blue." **

**Thank you all for playing along in my little prompt game! Suggestion came from fangbanger135/zansbitch1 (on TUMBLR and respectively). The next few are from here, too! If you have any ONE WORD PROMPTS please feel free to send them to me on here via private message, or find me on TUMBLR via IDREAMOFFRANKIE and send me a message there. I've hit a bit of a wall when it comes to my chaptered stories, and this is a fantastically fun way to keep writing without the pressure. I'm working on it, but I'm also busy, so this is just blowing off steam. I hope you guys enjoy the fluffy-smutty scenes to come. Thank you for taking time to read/review. Means the world to me!**

UP NEXT: WALL


	2. WALL

**Wall: **_a thing percieved as a protective or restrictive barrier._

**Part Two: Wall**

_We kissed, I fell under your spell._

_A love no one could deny._

_Don't you ever say, I just walked away._

_I will always want you. _

_I can't live a lie, running for my life._

_I will always want you._

Daryl shifted against his post in the guard tower, eyes on the tree-line in the distance. The walkers below, banging and groaning against the chain-link fence, weren't his problem at the moment - a team of prison-dwellers were picking them off with rebars and knifes. Wearing aprons over their clothing, so they wouldn't get dirty. Daryl never wore an apron - felt too much like Betty Crocker or something. Getting dirty was what Daryl did best.

As he hit his cigarette, inwardly wincing at the menthol taste in his mouth - he was a non-menthol guy, but beggers couldn't be choosers - he thought of the past few weeks. Things had been going well for them here in the prison. Yeah, they'd had to deal with that flu outbreak, and then there was the awful thing that Carol had done. He didn't think about that too much, pushing it out of his brain swiftly whenever the errant thought flittered through his mind. He didn't disagree with Rick kicking her out of the group - though he wished he did. Carol was a good woman, or _had_ been a good woman, back when all of them first met up. He'd gone half-crazy lookin' for her little girl.

But things changed. People changed. Hell, _he'd_ changed.

His entire life, he'd built walls up around himself. It was the safest way to keep himself protected, from getting hurt. The majority of people around him, from birth, weren't safe and couldn't be trusted. His mama was a drunk, his daddy was an abusive addict that took his anger and frustration out on whatever wasn't quick enough to get out of his war path. Merle - well, Daryl loved his big brother with all of his heart. But Merle was the same as Daryl. They looked out for themselves first, the other second, when they could.

Daryl had let Carol in, just a little bit. He cared for her. Not in a romantic or sexy kind of way, but she was a good friend. Someone that had lived the same kind of life as him - _painful_. Sad. There was a deepness in her steely eyes that revealed her inner-workings. She was strong, and Daryl had seen that as they went through the tragedy of losing Sophia. He thought she was all right, or as all right as one could be after losing their baby girl. But it was obvious now, looking back, that she hadn't been fine. If she was, she wouldn't have murdered Karen or David, regardless if the virus would have spread and killed them all. They were innocent, they were still human, and it was plain wrong.

Daryl saw her perspective, saw Rick's perspective. Understood both sides of the board. But it didn't mean that he had to like any of it. And he was glad that Rick had done the deciding for all of them.

A flash of blonde down below caught his eye, and he resisted the urge to groan. Frustration colored his feelings as soon as Beth Greene was in his eye-sight. The petite, slender girl was a particular problem as of late... With each small smile, every soulful gaze, the sound of her tinkling laughter or his name rolling off those pink lips - all of that was chipping away at the walls that he had built around his heart. He had been good, for a long while, keeping anyone from getting in. A stone fortress, disguised as a man. He was cold, he was mean, and he was very good at pushing people away.

The time that Lori had seeked him out, asked him to go looking for Rick and Glenn when they were out chasing after Hershel. Back on the farm. Back when Shane went crazy and opened the barn doors, revealing the old farmer's secret. All of those walkers, loved ones that the Greene family had known and held dear. Sophia. The day after that, when Hershel had left without a word to drown his sorrows, and Rick chased after him, Lori Grimes had come to him and asked him to go after the three. Daryl hated remembering his cold words, his mean demeanor. But he was so upset, so hurt that he had been searching for a girl that had been on the property and under their noses for _how_ long? When he was hurt, when he was upset, he lashed out. There was no other way to describe it.

It was similar to how he was acting towards Beth, now. All of those shy smiles and innocent looks were making him _scared_. When they spoke, no matter how briefly, Daryl found himself going from fine to grumpy in quick succession. It was so easy to be nice to her, return her smiles and the easy conversation that flowed between them, often about Judith or their family at the prison, was comforting and nice. Daryl found himself seeking her out sometimes, heading to her cell to "see the baby" or "check in." Really, if he was honest with himself, he knew he was going to take what little pleasure he could from conversations with the young woman. It was so simple, so comfortable and nice to be in her presence. She never asked him to track anything, never asked his opinion on important matters, never put any pressure on him. It was too good, better than he deserved.

Once he realized what he was doing, one warm summer night when he was thinkin' about seeking her company, Daryl had cut himself off. Cold-turkey. Wouldn't do any of them no good to go and catch feelings for the little farmer's daughter. No matter how beautiful her smile was, no matter how warm and _good_ he felt around her. It was out of the question. Not just because of how people would think of him, if something was to happen between them - that was _one_ of the many reasons why couldn't. The main stopper, however, was the chinks in his armor, the crumbling of his inner-walls. He didn't want to let anyone else in, not after all the hurt and heartache he had gone through. People brought pain. It was a fact of life. And while Beth was sweet and good and kind and gentle, she wasn't above hurting him, too.

He'd taken to avoiding her, lately. It was easier on him, that way.

Daryl inhaled one last hit before tossing his butt into the bucket. He ignored the wave that Beth sent in his direction, instead taking his bow up in his arms. He scoped out one of the lumbering un-dead fucks and released a bolt; it paused and toppled to the ground, feathered end sticking up. It was only maybe ten feet from the fence, near where Beth was standing. She lifted a hand, shading her eyes, and gazed towards him. Didn't need binoculars to know that she was probably smiling, maybe even blushing. She had a habit of doing that.

Daryl cursed the coincidence that probably wasn't that at all, probably completely intentional, and shook his head. Hopefully his shift would end soon, and he could find something far, _far_ away from the blonde to occupy his time.

_I came in like a wrecking ball_

_Yeah I just closed my eyes, and swung_

_Left me crashing in a blazing fall_

_All you ever did was wreck me_

_Yeah you, you wreck me_

Beth's hands shook as she lifted the rebar and hefted it, using all of her might, through the hole in the fence and into the eye-socket of a particularly rank looking and smelling walker. Her hands slid on the cold metal, and she braced a booted foot against the fence as she yanked the piece of metal back out. A fine spray of blood and guts streaked up her arms and over her black and white striped apron, and she groaned as she took in the disgusting sight of the matter on her body. Her stomach threatened to churn and release, but she gulped down the bile that rose in her throat and took slow, steady breaths. Beside her, Glenn chuckled - he was much neater in his dispatching of the undead. Playfully, Beth stuck her tongue out at her big brother in law.

"Don't be a baby," Glenn teased, tugging playfully on the ends of her ponytail. "Gotta get dirty to keep safe."

"Yeah, yeah," she said, waving a dismissive hand in his direction. The two were part of an eight man team, neatly working through the undead around the perimeter of the prison. With Daryl watching in the tower, Beth wasn't worried. This wasn't her favorite chore on the wheel, but having him near made her feel safer - and somehow, more nervous. Like he was watching and judging her performance.

Beth resisted the urge to gaze over her shoulder to where he leaned against the railing of the guard tower. He was acting so weird lately - ignoring her, avoiding her, pretending that she didn't exist. It was so strange how things could change in the blink of an eye. For a few weeks, Beth was enjoying his company. Seemed like his presence was a constant, keeping her sane with his quiet humor and the comfort he provided. In her eyes, Daryl was a knight in dirty leather, and instead of riding up on a big pretty horse, he had an old Triumph motorcycle. The sound of the engine sent tremors through her body, making her heart race. Some day, she would get to ride it.

The two had been growing closer, and it was nice. Partly because Beth's days were often filled with babies and little children, especially with Carol gone. A lot of that responsibility fell onto Beth's narrow shoulders. It was nice to have some grown-up interaction, even if Daryl's conversation skills made the kids look like political smooth-talkers. She smiled at the thought.

The other part of her that enjoyed Daryl's companionship had nothing to do with him speaking. It would have been impossible to ignore his handsome face, the deep tan on his strong arms, the way he wielded that crossbow like an extension of his body. He was interesting - Beth was fascinated with him. Learning anything she could about him was a treat. She laid in bed at night, trying to put the pieces together. She didn't know a lot about him, other than what she had heard from snatches of overheard conversations and what she had gathered herself. She knew about the scars on his back; she knew about the rough childhood he'd endured. She knew he was a hunter, a tracker, a true predator. There was something so primal about him in that sense, it made her thighs clench together with excitement.

But there were other things about him... He pushed people away. He was one of the strongest, best looking men in the prison community, and he was still unattached. There had been a time when Beth thought that he and Carol... But whether or not that had ever happened, it was done now. She was gone. She had done the unthinkable and she had been banished.

Daryl could have any woman he wanted, Beth thought. And he chose to spend his free time hanging out with her, and Judith, if Rick wasn't taking her. Sometimes it was just the two of them, chatting and laughing together. Getting the man to laugh was like pulling teeth. He didn't smile much, wasn't one for overt displays of emotion (except for anger) and Beth relished every time his lips quirked up in a grin, every time she heard the deep rumbling laughter in his chest. The sound released butterflies in her belly, making her blush and squirm. No man had ever made her feel like that before. Not Jimmy. Not Zach.

Later in the day, after a quick shower to wash the walker guts off herself, Beth headed back to her cell, thinking about Daryl. It was where all of her thoughts seemed to go these days. That mess of wispy brown hair, the stubble on his chin, threaded with gray. He swore and he smoked and he drank and he was a badass. Not the kind of guy her father would have picked for her - not the kind of guy that Beth would have picked for herself, _before_. But this world was very different than the one she had grown up in. Where a college education, good manners and a well-paying job had been on her list for marriage material, it wasn't that way now. Money mattered about as much as dirt (maybe even less than dirt) and college was a distant dream. And marriage? While Glenn and Maggie had found that with each other, Beth was realistic about her chances. Wasn't like there were a lot of choices, and the only man that she had feelings for - and calling them feelings felt real silly, when she knew that he would never pay attention to her in _that_ way - wasn't exactly the commitment type. At least, Beth didn't think he was...

She was so tangled and lost in her own thoughts that when she turned the corner in the dark, echoing hallway, Beth didn't notice the person coming right at her. They bumped into each other, with a surprising amount of force, and she was sent tumbling backwards, arms flailing and a short shriek escaping her lips. Before she could hit the floor, strong arms caught her.

"Whoa," a deep, southern voice drawled. Beth blinked in shock up into the face of Daryl Dixon, who was gazing at her with the same amount of surprise.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly, feeling her cheeks turn pink in embarrassment. Though he couldn't read her mind, Beth couldn't help feeling as though she'd been almost caught. He eyed his, his baby-blues nearly glowing in the darkness around them. There was something in his expression that made her uneasy in the best possible way. Her breath hitched at the slow smile that spread over his face. He was so unbelievably handsome.

"'S-no problem," Daryl remarked. His hands were on her waist, and she felt small and delicate under his big hands. The ends of her hair were dripping onto her T-shirt, and she realized she must look like a drowned mouse. There was a long, tense moment of silence, both of them gazing into each other's eyes. Beth was never sure what was going on in that head of his, but she felt trapped, entranced. His hands were burning through the thin material of her shirt, stirring up all kinds of emotions inside of her.

She bit her lip and looked away, breaking the spell. Daryl cleared his throat, seemed to realize that he was holding her, hands splayed over her ribcage, and tore his hands back as though she had burned him. They were both blushing now, and he seemed awkward, uncomfortable. Seeing him that way - glancing around, looking anywhere but directly at her, his face flaming - Beth realized that she had the same effect on him that he had on her. The knowledge surged within her, and she felt emboldened. Standing on tiptoes, she cupped his cheek and caught him by surprise, pressing a feather light kiss to his stubbled cheek.

"What's that for?" he asked, completely bewildered. Beth swallowed her giggles, not wanting to send him running off like a skittish deer.

"For that walker this morning," she replied, smiling sweetly. She even tried to bat her eyelashes, like she had read in some magazine a lifetime ago before all this happened. The dazed expression on her face was all the encouragement she needed. "I know no one thanks you enough for all that you do, Daryl. So _thank_ you." Her hand slid down his cheek, over the pulse jumping in his throat, to his shoulder. The leather of his vest was surprisingly smooth and soft, and she fisted the material momentarily before releasing it.

"'S nothing," Daryl said, voice deep and surprisingly husky. In the dark corridor, he was trapped. With her hand on his chest, her dark blue eyes gazing up at him, he couldn't move until she did. He _wouldn't_ end this sweet moment, as weird and uncomfortable as it was. There was something about her that pinned him to the spot where he stood, he was inable to move. If he was honest with himself, he truly didn't want to...

"Not nothing," Beth murmured. Now her other hand was on his shoulder, nearly embracing him. She was slowly working up to the moment that she had only allowed herself to think about in the few moments before sleep. With her wet hair pulled over one shoulder, wearing a pair of shorts and a loose white V-neck, she was a vision to him. Beautiful, naturally so, and so damn sweet and adorable. He knew that he should have pulled away quicker, should have ended all this before it began. But Daryl had a weakness, and it was named Beth.

"You do so much for us," Beth went on, keeping her voice soft and kind of quiet. She could hear his uneven breaths. It made her heart stutter and race. "You keep us safe, you keep us from going to bed on empty stomachs... You're so selfless, doin' everything you can to keep us all together. You do the things that no one else can, because you're a strong man, Daryl. And I just wanted to tell you... Even if nobody else does." She gazed up at him, the honesty and trust pouring from her eyes. Daryl gulped. "This prison wouldn't be the same without you."

"Beth," Daryl said, beginning to squirm. She realized his intention was to bolt, so she decided to make her move. She stepped closer to him, and he stepped back - his back hit the cinder-block wall, and she had him effectively pinned. Beth smiled up at him, a mixture of seductress and shy that only _she_ could believably pull off. "Um - "

She cut him off by standing on her tip-toes again, and pressing her soft lips to his. Immediately, her eyes drifted shut, and she moaned quietly, softly against his mouth. His hands hung lamely at his sides, and his brain was so tangled and confused and downright surprised that he didn't know how to react. Beth kept it chaste, kept it quick, and was stepping out of the embrace before he had time to fully process what had happened. Her mouth tingled and burned from the soft sensation of kissing him, the way his beard had scraped her face was not unpleasant, and the hinted taste of cigarettes and heat made her head light. Beth tried to hide her embarrassment at her bold manuever, but the pink of her cheeks gave her away.

She tried to keep it cool. "See ya around, Daryl," she called, and continued on her way back to her cell. Once she was far enough away, she lifted a hand to trace her soft lips, wondering what was going through the man's mind. It was never easy to tell.

_I came in like a wrecking ball_

_I never hit so hard in love_

_All I wanted was to break your walls_

_All you ever did was wreck me_

As Daryl slipped into the cell that served as his bedroom, after a long cold shower and a string of cuss words that would make the baddest sailor blush, he settled into bed and closed his eyes. All he could think of was the sweet, sudden kiss from the young blonde. The sugary after-taste on his lips, the feel of her tiny waist under his big hands. He wasn't sure what the hell had gone on, but there was one certainty that made him uncomfortable as well as hopeful.

Those walls that he had built up to protect himself, carefully cultivating, maintaining, fortifying over the years... He was almost certain that there might have been a door along there somewhere, and if there was anyone with a key to unlock it and step inside of the protection, it was Beth Greene. And it felt as though her kiss was only the first step in breaking down his guard, his resolve. With a groan, Daryl flopped onto his stomach and closed his eyes shut tight. It was the last thing he wanted; it was the first thing he needed. The road was never easy for him. There was no way that this would be, either.

***FIN***

**Disclaimer: I do not own. Lyrics belong to Miley Cyrus from her song, "Wrecking Ball." Hope you guys loved it. I surely did (and didn't feel at all weird or silly using the song at all! -_-)**

**Thank you guys for reading and playing along in my prompt game! I've got about ten left after this chapter, and hopefully they will keep coming. I have been enjoying myself immensely when it comes to writing these two. There are so many different dimensions to each of their characters, and I love when they try to figure each other out. I know this one wasn't smutty, but I'm sure there will be plenty of that in the future (judging from your prompt words... you guys are dirty, horny bastards!). **

**AS FOR THE LIZZIE/CARL FANS: I'm not sure if I can do a prompt game with them. Everyone wants to know if I'm going to write love scenes between the two, but they're KIDS. I know that Beth isn't that much older, but she's at least legal by the standards in the real world. I don't want to contribute to the child pornography underworld by writing love scenes between fourteen year olds, it just makes me REALLY uncomfortable. That's not to say that I can't write set-in-the-future scenes, but I enjoy writing them as they are. As children. I'm sorry if that upsets you, but I can only write what I'm comfortable with. I hope you can understand.**

**Again, thank you for playing along and reading! Big thanks to **_**zansbitch1/fangbanger135**_** for the words. This one, as well as the next two, are for you!**

UP NEXT: SILENCE


	3. SILENCE

**Silence: **_1) complete absense of sound. 2) cause to become silent; prohibit or prevent from speaking._

**Part Three: Silence**

_hello darkness my old friend_

_i've come to talk with you again_

_because a vision softly creeping_

_left it's seeds while i was sleeping_

_and the vision that was planted in my brain_

_still remains_

_within the sounds of silence_

In his dreams, it's her eyes that get him. Every Goddamn time, it's those big blue eyes, like the summer sky briefly before a big rain-storm. When the air is crackling with electricity and the heat is so oppressive, one thinks they'll suffocate from the pressure. But in his dreams, those are the last things that Daryl is thinking about. Instead, it's just those big, trusting eyes that gaze up at him. There is something about the absolute trust she has in him - in his sleeping world and in the waking - that tugs at his heart. Worse than a damn puppy dog. Worse than when Judith gives him one of her pitiful, verge-of-tears looks before she begins to wail, because he has to leave her and she doesn't want him to, when he deposits her back into whoever (usually Beth's) arms, getting on with whatever he was previously doing.

She trusts him, because she doesn't know a damn thing about him.

Beth doesn't know shit about the world, really. How could she? All she had was what, seventeen years of being a sweet little Christian girl, a farmer's daughter? How could anyone so sheltered understand the way things were... That people's lives, their childhoods, weren't always happy families and horses and school dances. Before the walkers, there had been not a damn thing that she had to worry about. She had her Daddy wrapped around her little finger, a big sister to look out for her, and a sweet, dumb boyfriend that adored her. Not that Daryl could blame the kid, rest his soul. But it was simple for her, and it was easy for her.

Daryl's life had not been so happy, or simple. His survival instincts included knowing when his father had had one too many, knowing when he was on the war-path. Knowing how to take a lickin'. But there was more than just that, more than the constant abuse and the lack of affection and love and all that nurturing bull-shit that the head-shrinkers thought ya needed to grow into a well-adjusted, normal, _happy_ person. Daryl didn't get none of that, but he did get tough. He got smart, maybe not _book_ smart, but he'd gotten himself and the rest of their group this far. And _that_ made up for his lack of college education, surely.

In his dreams, education is the furthest thing from his mind. The sinful, dirty things he does to her tender, soft body would make even _Merle_ blush, and that was certainly saying something. Half the unconcious visions were probably due in part to his porno-stash, the one that Daryl had discovered and poured over when he was a kid. Way too young to be looking at that kind of stuff, hell - he probably was still too young. Merle had always been a weird guy, and his big brother's sexual appetites were just as bizarre.

Magazines with glossy pictures of women bound, gagged, hog-tied. Pictures that looked like torture, but were meant for pleasure. It had puzzled him as a kid, gave him the most confusing boners of his life. Daryl knew, even at a young age, that liking that kind of stuff was wrong, that it was dirty. But he couldn't help himself - there was something about seeing the ropes snaked around their limbs, binding them into obscene and uncomfortable positions, the short descriptions... '_Amber loves to please her Master. She obeys his every command and endures his attentions for his pleasure - which of course leads to her own.._' Things like that, for some reason, had resonated with him.

Must have been why he was having these dreams about Beth Greene, her peaches and cream skin spanked red, bound in positions that would leave her open and vulnerable to his wandering hands, and gazing up at him with those big, trusting eyes - heavily-lidded, mouth parted in pleasure. It's always in some abandoned, dark cell in the bowels of the prison, where no one will stumble upon them, where no one will hear the sounds she makes... And God, Daryl just knows that regardless of it being his dreams, that she would be a screamer. There is something about her soft, quiet demeanor, the way she talks with her eyes and eyebrow quirks, lips pressing into a firm line... Something about that makes Daryl think that when her passion is unlocked, that she's going to be a screamer.

He wouldn't know. All he's managed so far is a few awkward kisses, and that one time when she took his hand and placed it under her skirt. He'd felt the heat radiating off her, the damp material of her panties, the unbelievably soft skin of her inner thighs when his fingertips brushed them.

"_Fuck_," he'd hissed, hiding his face in the crux of her neck. Inhaling her scent, sweet and sugary, Daryl knew that it wasn't the time or the place. But she was telling him something, and he wasn't sure what to do about it. Not like he could buy her a few drinks, get himself nice and buzzed so that his shoulders would relax and his hands would have some liquid courage. All of the things he'd done in the past to get him through the weird, fumbling stages of fore-play and into the main event disappeared. He was going to actually have to _try_, and the very thought unnerved him. He was fourteen again, insecure and nauseas at the thought of having someone touch him.

"I want you, Daryl," Beth had whispered, her voice like the sweetest melody in his ears. "Please."

"Soon," he had promised her. But there were other factors, and it had been a week since that had happened. He hadn't missed the longing looks, the way her eyes sought his whenever they were in the same room together. She was a smart girl, and soon enough she would realize that he was stalling. He hoped for just a bit more time to get it right, but if there was something they didn't have much of anymore, it was _time_.

With the sweet, vulnerable Beth Greene on his mind constantly, _of course_ she would be in his dreams. But it was always in ways that Daryl Dixon would never imagine, ways that he could never possibly hope to experience her in real life. She wouldn't - he _couldn't_ - it was just impossible. Sweet, virginal Beth Greene would never allow him to treat her like that. It wasn't right, wasn't respectful. She was a good girl, and the things that Daryl wanted to do to her... Just wasn't proper with a girl like Beth.

But in his dreams, anything was possible. Waking up with rock-hard erections - or worse, moaning in his sleep with evidence in his pants of what he'd been dreaming - were a daily occurence. This night, in particular, was worse than normal. It wasn't so much what they were doing - oral sex was a pretty normal thing these days - but having her kneeling before him, completely nude, with her arms bound behind her back and his hands gripping her hair... Standing in front of her, he was thrusting brutally into her mouth, down her throat, and he had commanded her not to make a single peep.

"Ya been back-sassin' me all day," Daryl told her. In the dream, they were coming from some unknown day, some day that never existed, and Beth had been getting mouthy, apparently. Daryl couldn't really imagine that ever happening, she was never a complainer or a whiner, and he'd never even heard her snap back at her own sister before, which was completely normal and run-of-the-mill for siblings he knew. Beth was kneeling down before him, blue eyes gazing up at him with a mixture of emotions - lust, the slightest bit of amusement, excitement... _Fear_. It was evident in the quick, panting breaths she took and the flush of her cheeks. "Lets see what other use we can find for that mouth of yours, huh?"

She nodded. There was a trusting, respectful obedience about her, and it made him shiver with anticipation, arousal. Without much fanfare, he was shoving his hard cock between her full lips, and she dutifully began to suck and lick at him. In his dreams, Daryl marveled at how good she was, as always. Didn't know if she would be in the real, waking world... But in his dreams, she was sucking his dick like a fuckin' professional. The little sounds that left her throat, ranging from mews of pleasure and gagging, choking noises, did nothing to ease the building pleasure burning in his veins. When he grabs her hair, holding her steady, and begins to grab thrust his his slowly but deeply, those big blue eyes roll up to gaze at him.

"Be quiet now. I want silence," Daryl commanded. Her eyes flutter shut for the shortest second, relaying so many things in such a small gesture. Knowing that the pleasure is shared, that she wants this just as badly as he does, making his hips hitch and pump brutally. But she's good, _so_ good, and not a noise leaves her lips as he violates her. But is it violation, if she wants it too?

He's close now, right on the edge of his climax, and one hand slips to stroke her cheek affectionately. If anything, it only illicits her to suck harder, take him further than before. Her enthusiasm makes him lose it, a harsh groan rumbling from his chest as waves of pleasure crash over his body. His toes curl into the soles of his feet, and his mouth, dragging in broken, deep breaths. The sensation is overwhelming, the pleasure is so much more than he deserves. _She_ is so much more than he deserves.

However, it's only a dream. He's somehow cognizant of this in his unconcious visions, and that allows him to do all of this. Everything he can't do in the waking world, he can do here. And no one is hurt, or upset, because it's only in his head.

* * *

Beth had been planning on sneaking to Daryl's cell in the middle of the night, to catch him unawares. It would be easier that way - obviously, if she wanted something from the man, she was going to have to go out and get it on her own. She had tried... She had done everything she could think of, everything she could remember from the Cosmopolitan magazines that Maggie had read - the ones that their mother had forbidden Beth to consume. But when no one was looking, the small blonde would sneak a peek. There was so much to read, so much to learn - things that she obviously wasn't going to learn from asking her mother or big sister. Maggie would tease her mercilessly, her mother would call her 'sinful' and drag her to church. Or something along those lines. It wasn't like her girlfriends at school would have any better idea than _she_ did...

She'd been forward. She'd been bold. Beth wasn't exactly outspoken or courageous, like her big sister. She couldn't just tell Daryl in so many words that she was ready to take their relationship - though calling it that seemed like a bit of a stretch - to the next level. Yes, they were close, and she was insanely attracted to him. The rugged, tough exterior he presented the world was something she admired. It was so opposite of herself... Daryl Dixon was a redneck, he was coarse and unfriendly, downright _rude_ on occasion. But he was also handsome, and his heart was big. Much bigger than she had expected from someone that had grown up in the way that he had.

Her bare feet were silent against the stone floors of the cell block as she crept to his cell. The silvery moonlight slipped through the high windows, slanting over the cells. Most everyone had put up privacy sheets or blankets, blocking out the light in the night and making it a bit more personal. Glenn and Maggie had a cell far down on the bottom, as far as possible to keep their noise away from the others. Daryl's was on the complete opposite end, on the second tier, where he was afforded privacy and a bit more quiet. No one bothered him when he was in his room - mainly because he was rarely there. Beth wondered if anyone had ever even been in there before, other than himself.

Pulling the edge of the blanket over, she slipped in and let it fall behind her. It was pitch black, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust in the darkness. Quickly, Beth made out Daryl's snoozing form on his cell bunk, arms folded behind his head. His crossbow was an arms length away, always close. It was like a security blanket. Smiling at the thought, she crept closer.

His breathing was ragged. Other than that, it was too dark for Beth to really tell - but he was asleep, as he hadn't stirred at her arrival. Taking advantage, she knelt down beside him, sweeping his dark, dirty hair off of his face gently. He mumbled something, too quiet to make out, and she held in a giggle. There was something really sweet and adorable about him talking in his sleep, added in the danger of ambushing him in his sleep... Maybe she was a bit loopy, but Beth didn't care. She'd come here with a purpose, and she didn't intend to leave until she got what she wanted.

She wasn't a seductress, but she'd pulled on a thin, baggy tank-top without a bra and a pair of soft cotton shorts that show-cased her long legs. Not that he could see, but it revealed plenty of her creamy flesh for his eyes _only_. The thought of anyone else seeing her like this made blush stain and heat her cheeks. Someone could get the wrong idea about her - Beth didn't want anyone but Daryl to have _any_ ideas about her.

"Daryl," she whispered. Instantly, his eyes fluttered open, and he was sitting up in bed. Always on edge, this one. Stroking his arms soothingly, she said, "It's just me, just Beth."

"What's wrong? Whatcha doin' in here?" he asked. His voice was even deeper, gravelly, when he was half awake. It was incredibly sexy, and Beth felt the tell-tale heat spreading from her middle. Wonderful reminder of what she was doing here.

"Sh, everythings fine," she whispered. His shoulders sagged with relief, but only for a moment - he was suddenly eyeing her, suspicious and wary.

"Ya need to go back to your own bed," Daryl said, low and commanding. Beth bit her lip, glancing down at her hand on his bicep. His mucles were hard and firm under her hand.

"I don't want to," she said. "I want - I want to be with you, Daryl."

He sighed, before flopping back on his bed and scrubbing his hands over his face. Beth realized she was playing the annoying, whiny little girl card, but she kind of thought he might like it. Taking a page out of Maggie's book, she bravely climbed on top of him, blushing at her graceless move. For a moment, the only sounds were each other's breathing. Daryl lowered his hands and glared at her - with only the blanket between them, it was the closest she had ever been to another person. Like that, anyway.

"Yer playin' with fire," Daryl warned.

"Thats ok," Beth said.

"Ya don't know what you're gettin' yourself into." He was trying to scare her, trying to make it sound like he was going to do something _awful_ - but she was completely confident that if he was doing it to her, she would enjoy it.

"I'm a big girl, Daryl," she whispered, keeping her tone playful. "I think I can handle you." For a moment, there was nothing but silence. But then his hand was on the back of her neck, and he dragged her down before crushing their lips together in a passionate, fiery kiss. Beth mewed softly against him, surprised and pleased, before her little hands cupped his cheeks and she kissed him back. His tongued snaked out, tracing her lips. She gasped, and he took advantage by slipping his tongue into her mouth, sliding it against her own. The sensation, as always, was luxurious. Perfect. The fire in her belly was stoked higher, the heat spreading down her thighs and settling in her belly.

"Please," she whimpered, when he released her lips. His hands were on her sides, halfway between unsafe places. It was his go-to place to touch. A few inches north or south, and he would be in dangerous territory. Annoyed, Beth rocked her hips against his, and inhaled sharply when she felt the hardness beneath her. She might have been innocent, but she knew what that meant. She'd felt Jimmy's erection before, on accident, when she was sitting on his lap or when they were both riding Nervous Nellie. And just once, before, she had felt Daryl's hardness brush against her bottom as he brushed by her. Totally on accident, but she had relived the event over and over.

"Beth," Daryl said. His hands flew to her hips, stilling her movement. "I'm warnin' ya one last time, girl."

"Noted," Beth said, impatient, before leaning forward to kiss him again. It seemed as though he wouldn't hold out any longer. Instantly, one hand was yanking her hair out of it's confining ponytail before threading through the soft golden locks. The other cupped her ass, squeezing and kneading, and Beth couldn't help the quiet moan that left her mouth. She wanted this - she wanted _him_ - and nothing would stop her now.

They had gone too far, and there could be no turning back.

As their mouths melded, tongues tangling, Daryl's hand slid from her ass up to cup her breast. Her nipples were hard little pebbles, pressing against the soft, thin material of her top. He growled - literally _growled_ and it made her shiver with delight - as his thumb stroked over the sensitive peak, making her tremble in his arms. It felt so good - better than anything she had ever experienced - and she was quickly tossing her shirt across the room with growing urgency.

"Touch me, touch me," she pleaded, and he complied. Both hands now, cupping and teasing her flesh. She arched into his hands, needing more but not knowing how or _what_ exactly. Just more. Without realizing it, she had been chanting the words quietly. Daryl chuckled beneath her.

"Awful pushy," he commented, before pulling her forward and capturing one of her nipples between his lips. The suction was sinful, and she was instantly moving against him without realizing it. Her hips were aligned perfectly with his erection, and it brushed her most private - and most sensitive - parts perfectly. Beth's breaths came in short, sudden pants in the otherwise silent cell. Daryl's dark blue eyes were watching her every reaction, though she was too far gone, too muddled with heat and lust and desire to care.

"Please, Daryl," she whispered harshly, once he released her breast. "I need you inside of me."

He nodded, not making a peep. They were then pushing off blankets and pulling off their clothes. Beth stood and shimmied out of her little shorts, leaving her completely bare to him. She expected him to have her lay down or something, but he laid back in the bed with his arms behind his head, waiting and watching her expectantly. In the darkness, she couldn't see much - but Beth knew that he was hard and standing at attention.

"Ain't got all day," he drawled, and Beth blushed before straddling him again. She shifted down so that his cock was aligned with her tight channel. She knew first times were supposed to hurt, but she was so excited that she was practically dripping. The inside of her thighs was slick with her arousal, and she would have been embarrassed if not for the dark. Daryl ran a hand down her spine, resting at the curve of her bottom. The other hand was on his cock, and he stroked it slowly, sliding it _against_ but not inside of her. He hissed in surprise, in pleasure - Beth smiled, reassured. Until he rubbed against the top of her quim, brushing the bundle of nerves there. The ones that made her arch and gasp and tingle _everywhere_.

He must have noticed the tremor that passed through her. "Ya ready?" he asked her, and Beth nodded. He could either see better than her, or he didn't care if she was ready or not. Apparently, he was. He lined himself up, and Beth braced her hands against his shoulders, holding on for dear life. Her nails bit into his flesh but he didn't say anything. Instead, he pushed down on her hips, and Beth bit her lip anxiously as she felt him begin to fill her.

The invasion was strange. It wasn't necessarily painful, but the new sensation of being filled, completely, and stretched, was uncomfortable. But Beth continued to sink down on his hardness, pushing through the strange feelings until she was full seated. Daryl was squeezing _her_ now, his hands both on her hips now. She knew there would be bruises there tomorrow, and for some reason the realization made her eyes flutter. The intense pleasure that washed over her made her hips move again, and the both of them were soon moaning, softly. Daryl urged her up, before pulling her back down. It was a shallow thrust, but it was the beginning of something. Beth realized it almost immediately, and began to set a slow, awkward rythym. She wasn't an expert at this, _obviously_, and Daryl wasn't exactly full of encouraging words. She'd have to do this all on instinct, all on feel, all on what felt good.

_Fine_, she thought. Using his chest as leverage, she began to rise and sink a little faster. The burn inside of her was one of desire, one of lust. The tingly sensations shooting through her were like little fireworks, leading to the grand finale. That had always been her favorite part of the Fourth of July.

"Faster," Daryl said. His voice left no room for argument, and Beth did her best to follow instructions. Knowing that he was being pleasured, being pleasured by _her_, that she was doing everything she could to make him feel good... It did much to fan the flames within her. Soon, she was moaning with each thrust, and his hips were rising to meet hers. The friction was delicious. Sweat slicked their bodies, and the waves were licking at her toes now. Any time now, it would wash over all of her.

"I'm close," Beth told him. Daryl groaned in response, before sitting up. His mouth found her's, and she kissed him back with all the passion and abandon she had. Soon, almost too soon, she was tumbling over the edge, her back arching so that her tight nipples brushed against his bare chest. Her arms wrapped around his neck, holding him tight as her muscles clenched around him. The moans that left her throat were quiet, but mingled with Daryl's. Beth collapsed against him, limp and spent, as he continued to thrust into her.

"Ain't done with you yet," Daryl told her, and Beth moaned at the spike of arousal that pierced her again. "Get on ya hands and knees." She was quick to obey, once he slipped out of her. She held herself, back arched up. "Good girl," he said, and she moaned wantonly in response. His hands slid over the supple, smooth porcelain skin of her bottom before he grasped her hips and pulled her back, impaling her with his erection. He wasn't gentle, not that he really had been before... More like he was _patient_. But now, he was thrusting against her wildly. The sound of skin impacting on skin, the friction of him push-pulling inside of her... Beth was lost, unthinking. She was made purely of feeling, purely of the all too pleasant sensation of him filling her up.

Daryl's hands were all over her body. Plucking at her nipples, rubbing that spot between her legs, holding onto her shoulders. When his hand came down, smacking her on the ass, Beth let out a surprised squeal. It didn't hurt - and she was loathe to admit that it was an erotic display, and that the feeling was somehow adding to her arousal. She unconciously clenched her muscles around him again, and that was it for him. Daryl came, falling against her back. She was shivering beneath him, her legs threatening to give out as he caught his breath. She felt a sprinkling of kisses on her flesh, and sighed contentedly.

Standing up, Daryl allowed her to shift on the bed until she was lying on her back. He covered her body quickly, the sweat cooling on both of them as they tangled limbs together. He drew the blanket around them, silently curling his body against her's. Beth was exhausted now, her orgasm taking all of the energy out of her. Within moments, she was asleep, and Daryl followed her quickly.

Down below, Michonne and Rick shared a look. Coming in from their watch, swapping with Glenn and Maggie, who were awkwardly glancing towards the upperhand corner cell. There were quiet noises coming from within, and the tell-tale squeaking of the bunks. They'd all heard it before... How the couple could be oblivious was beyond all of them.

"I'll talk to her," Maggie said, shaking her head. Her cheeks were redder than Rick had ever seen them, and there had been plenty of embarrassing moments for her and her man in the year that they'd known each other.

"I'll talk to _him_," Rick said, casting her an amused grin. All of them avoiding each other's faces, Maggie grabbed Glenn's hand and dragged him out the the guard tower. Michonne arched an eyebrow at the former sheriff, and he simply laughed. Couldn't fault them for finding happiness where they could, and taking advantage... Finally, as he was settling into bed after looking in on Carl and Judith, silence fell over the block. _Never thought it'd be those two,_ he thought, before closing his eyes and letting sleep take him over.

**Hey guys! This one kinda got away from me, I hope you don't mind! Thank you all for the reviews, messages, following me on TUMBLR ( idreamoffrankie ) and the other people that are out there that make all of this happen. I love you all, to pieces. Seriously, you guys are all my favorites!**

**Please check out my current chaptered fic in progress: TO INFINITY - it's a sequel to Waste of an Arrow, and it's Lizzie/Carl centric with no smut. I know, what was I thinking? Smut is my favorite. It's my bread and buttahhh. Haha. But it's a cute little fic with some sweetness and soon some action and adventure. **

**Thank you to zansbitch1 for the words. Love you, sweet-thang! **

UP NEXT: SHOWER


	4. SHOWER

**Passion**

**by: FrankieLouWho**

**Rating: M**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to TWD! I love it though :]**

**Author's Notes: For your reading pleasure, a little continuation from the previous chapter. Apologies for the long wait! Hope it was worth it :]**

**Shower: **_ noun: 1) a brief and usually light fall of rain, hail, sleet, or snow. 2) an enclosure in which a person stands under a spray of water to wash. verb: (of a mass of small things) fall or be thrown in a shower. 2) wash oneself in a shower._

Beth Greene stood in the shower, under the cold spray, for much longer than she should have. She never realized that sex would make a person so sore, in places that she had never expected. It felt almost like her body had been run over by a truck. Between her legs, the dull ache was a constant reminder. But her other muscles - the ones in her upper arms and shoulders, her lower back too, as well as her thighs - burned from the exertion. Maggie had taken one look at her that morning, and snatched the baby out of her arms.

"If you're sick, you need to go lie down," Maggie had said forcefully. "Shouldn't be takin' Judith if you ain't feeling well."

Beth had gone along with it. Easier than arguing or explain why she looked like crap. In the movies, women were usually glowing the next morning when they woke up. Beth felt closer to her death bed than anything.

For the hundredth time, she wished the water was warm. But it was still soothing, beating down on her scalp and neck. She'd already washed her hair twice and soaped the rest of her body, standing under the spray until the water ran clear and her teeth were about to chatter. With a sigh, she reached and turned the handle, shutting off the shower, and stepped into the tiled room. They'd hung curtains for privacy, but Beth was alone for the time being. She wrapped a fluffy towel around her body and grabbed her brush from the bag of toiletries she had collected over the year. She sat on one of the benches that dotted the room, humming quietly as she worked the brush through her thick, tangled hair.

She was still in shock about what she'd done last night. Sneaking into Daryl's cell had been a fantasy, one she came up with and often revisited when she was bored. Throwing herself at him, at his mercy, had been stupid. She was lucky that it had worked out in the end, that she hadn't ordered her away with any real sincerity. Instead, he'd let her have her way with him, and the results were explosive. For both of them.

Beth had been so distracted with her thoughts that she hadn't noticed him come in. It wasn't until she felt a hand on her own, the one brushing her hair, that she flinched in surprise. Whipping her head around, she found blue-velvet eyes gazing down at her. There was intensity there that wasn't present before last night, and it sucked the breath out of her chest with the ferocity there.

"Lemme," he said quietly. She nodded, inable to speak, and he slipped the brush from her loose grab. Beth turned to face away from him, sitting straight as a board, her spine tense. The shower head dripped quietly, and other than the brush snagging through her knots, it was silent. Beth was surprised that he was brushing her hair so nicely - starting at the ends and working his way up. His touch was gentle, and Beth felt herself relax in the repetitive lull. It was almost hypnotic.

"'m sorry, if I was too rough on ya last night." Daryl's words were hard to hear, they were spoken so softly. Beth almost couldn't believe she was hearing him apologize. Turning in her seat, she gazed up at him.

"No - not at all. No need to apologize," she said quickly.

"Ya sister said you's sick," he said, furrowing his brow in confusion. "I thought maybe -"

"I'm _sore_," Beth explained. "She said I looked like I was getting sick when I came down this morning - but I'm fine. Really, Daryl."

His wide shoulders sagged with relief, and Beth smiled. It seemed the more time she spent around him, the easier it was to read his reactions. It felt like each shrug, sigh, quirk of his lips or eyebrows, was a specific response. They just needed to be decoded.

"Good," he said finally. One hand slid over her damp, smooth locks, and he smiled at her.

"I liked it," Beth admitted in a small voice. "I liked it _a lot_." His hand suddenly gripped the length of her hair, wrapping it around his fist. He pulled gently and tipped her head back, and Beth gasped in a mixture of surprise and pleasure. The sensation on her scalp was delicious and confusing. She wet her parted lips, gazing up at him, and heard the soft, rumbling growl leave his throat. She wanted to tell him more - that she loved it, loved the thrill of his hands sliding over her body, the way he tossed her around and used her body towards the end. When he slapped her bottom, making her cry out in a similar fashion as when he pulled her hair, she felt the aftershocks in her pussy. Making her clench at his hard length again.

"You don't know what you do to me," Daryl whispered, and Beth was shocked at the statement. The raw honesty made her heart clench, but the fiery look on his face only made heat fan over her body. She whimpered softly, and that seemed to be his undoing. Quickly, he hauled her up into his arms, spinning her around with his fist still tangled in her damp locks, and kissed her. Hard, hot, and wet. Beth's tongue wasn't shy as they collided, and her barely-covered body was pressed flush against his front.

"Daryl," she mewed, breaking apart to catch her breath. His chest was heaving as well, and he yanked the towel away from her body, letting it drop to the slick tiles. Beth couldn't even blush at her nudity - they were passed that now. Instead, one of her hands held the back of his neck, her nails lightly biting into his skin and the other fisted in his leather vest. He glanced down between them, gazing at her breasts pressed against his clothed chest. Beth shivered at the contact, the pressure on her nipples was delicious. She looked up into his face, waiting for his reaction.

"Touch 'em," he said. Beth blinked, face blank. He let go of her, stepping back. He sat himself on the bench opposite of the one that Beth had been sitting on. He shrugged off his leather jacket and waited.

"Touch what?" Beth asked. The grin on his face could only be described as devious, evil - and pure lust. His heavily lidded eyes were focused on her, and Beth tried to understand what he meant.

"Touch your breasts," Daryl commanded. There was something in his tone, a dangerous yet tender edge that made her comply. She did it - but with red cheeks and fumbling, awkward hands. How was she supposed to know what to do? Tentatively, her small hands cupped her small breasts. "Act like I'm not here, now. Act like ya by yourself."

_What?!_ Alarm bells sounded in her mind, but Beth was inable to defy his commands. It was like she was hypnotized, powerless against his words. He wanted her to act like she was masturbating. He wanted to _watch_.

Beth closed her eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath. She could do this - she could do this for _him_. She squeezed the slight weight of her breasts, feeling her nipples poking against her palms. She bit her lip, fighting the humiliated blush that stained her cheeks. He wanted her to do this, and she wanted to do it for him - but she had rarely even touched herself privately, let alone on display like this. When she finally got the courage to open her eyes, Beth found Daryl watching her like a hawk. There was also an undeniable bulge in his dirty old jeans, and with renewed confidence that she had such an effect on him, Beth continued. Braver now, she pinched her nipples between her fingers, tugging on them and letting out a whimper at the sensation that spiked through her. She could feel each minstration in her most private place.

After a few more moments, Daryl was on his feet and crossing the distance between them quickly. His hands covered her's, both of them manipulating her flesh, both of them making her moan outright. Just a little while ago, she was feeling sore and uncomfortable - but now her body was on fire and she was arching in his arms, trying to get more contact.

"Please, please," Beth begged him.

"Please what, princess?" Daryl whispered. He brushed his lips against her temple, and she leaned her head into his touch.

The first words that tumbled from her mouth were, "Please, _sir_," and Daryl froze. For a split second, Beth worried that she messed up - did something wrong - until he was kissing her, hard and rough. There was something different about it, something that made her knees weaken impossibly.

"Lay down," he instructed. Beth glanced at the bench but shrugged and followed his direction. Sprawled on her back, legs and arms hanging down, her legs were slightly parted. Beth wondered if Daryl could smell her excitement, her desire. She knew that she was wet, could feel the slickness on her thighs. If it bothered him, he didn't show it. Instead, he paced beside her for a moment, eyes following the lines of her body before he sank to his knees at her side.

"Is everything ok?" Beth asked nervously. Daryl stroked a lock of hair off of her face, nodded. It did little to relieve her but it would have to do for now. His fingers trailed over her chest, down between her breasts and over her flat tummy. They danced between her hipbones, sliding over the patch of blonde hair at the top of her vagina, before slipping even further down. She gasped out right as his calloused fingers found her clit, sending pleasure shooting through her body.

Leaning forward, Daryl peppered gentle kisses to her skin. It tickled, but Beth held still as his hands held her hips. She could tell by the determined expression on his face that this was something new to him, too. His lips faltered, dragged moist trails over her skin. She wondered if perhaps he had less experience than she thought. Or maybe he was just as excited as she was. His hands were shaking against her skin.

Carefully, Beth reached up and ran a hand through his hair. Daryl's eyes snapped to her face, and she tried to convey all of her emotions - the lust, the affection, the want and need inside of her. The fire he kindled inside of her was like nothing she had ever experienced before. Beth was completely in awe of him.

Suddenly, taking her by surprise, Daryl pressed her thighs apart and licked his tongue over her slit. The sound that left her throat was completely foreign - somewhere between a squeal and a moan - and had him chuckling into her pussy. Beth was too far gone now to notice - instead, all she could process was his tongue teasing the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs, one hand forcing her open even further. The other was tracing her pussy-lips, the sensation erotic and plunging her deeper into ecstacy. When he slipped a finger inside of her, twisted and pushing it deep, her back arched off the bench and she whimpered.

She was close to the edge. It was intense, and her chest felt like she couldn't draw in enough oxygen as she panted. Beth had never felt like this before, not even the pervious night. As she writhed beneath his minstrations, Beth couldn't resist the soft cries that left her mouth and echoed through the showers. As Daryl pressed another finger inside of her, grasping her thigh hard enough to leave a bruise, she could stand it no longer. Panting his name, Beth shattered. Her body trembled pleasure, eyes shut tightly and her back arching up again. Once she calmed, except for the pleasant after-shocks that made her core clench around his fingers, Beth's eyes fluttered open slowly. Daryl was gazing at her, watching with his own heated blue eyes. She wasn't sure what came next, but there was one glaringly obvious fact - Daryl wasn't done with her yet.

Daryl pulled his fingers from her quivering pussy, inhaling her delicious scent again. It was all over his face, his stubble, and he knew that for the rest of the day he would go around smelling her. He was already rock hard inside of his trousers, but it was becoming painful. He needed to take care of this before he left the showers, and there was only really one solution. He knew they needed to be quick - had already been down there a while, watching her shower and sing to herself. Daryl knew it was wrong, that there was something _weird_ about his wanting to watch her all the time. But she was so damn beautiful, it was hard to tear himself away.

Her big blue eyes were watching him, and without thinking, held her jaw in one hand and pushed his fingers into her mouth with the other. She stiffened at first, before relaxing and gripping his wrist with both of her small hands. When her tongue flicked against his fingers, Daryl couldn't hold in the groan that tore from his throat. No way was she was as innocent as she seemed. Her reactions, the things she said - calling him fucking _sir_ when he was trying to ask her what she wanted. But damn if it didn't turn him on, didn't make him want to fuck her into the bench she was sprawled on. It seemed that everything the little blonde did would drive him insane with arousal. It wasn't normal.

After she cleaned his fingers to Daryl's satisfaction, he helped her up. Beth's legs were long and shapely, and Daryl took a moment to run his hands over the backs of her thighs appreciateively. She shivered in response, goosebumps rippling over her porcelain skin. The knowledge that she was as excited as he was only spurred him on. While he knew she had to be sore, he couldn't help himself. He tilted her hips towards him with one hand and made quick work of his fly with the other. Before he could even make sure that she was ready and that she wanted it, Daryl was plunging into her wet heat. She fell forward, hands grasping at the bench as he held still inside of her for a few scant seconds.

"Oh God," Beth rasped, and it was all the encouragement he needed. Grasping her hips tight enough to leave marks, Daryl was pumping into her, pulling her body back to slap against his. The sound of flesh smacking against flesh and her soft, breathy moans mingled with his panting grunts filled and echoed in the shower room, but he couldn't find the will to care. She had done so well, obeyed and submitted herself to him. Without even knowing it, Beth had fulfilled one of the fantasies that had been building in his mind since he was a teenager. It might not have been the ropes and spanking that he had jerked off to, but it was the power shift, the way she completely gave up herself to him.

It was insanely erotic. It was painfully arousing. But more than that, it endeared her to him that much more. Not only was she a beautiful woman, but she was a beautiful submissive. She was perfect for him. The realization made him lose his rythym for a moment, causing Beth to push herself back impatiently.

Daryl hissed as she moved against him.

It only took a few more thrusts before she was whimpering his name, fingers digging into the bench and her legs shaking. Daryl held her weight, wrapping an arm around her stomach as he continued his harsh beat against her flesh. He felt the flutter of delicate muscles inside of her, the tell-tale signs that her orgasm was _there_, happening. Goosebumps rippled over her skin, beneath his fingertips, and the visual representation of her pleasure was enough to send Daryl over the edge. He managed to pull out in time, shooting his seed all over her bottom and lovely thighs. He knew that he should be ashamed, that she probably wouldn't appreciate what turned him on so much to see... Quickly, he wiped her down and lowered her back so that she was sitting on the bench.

"Ya ok?" he asked. He needed to make sure she was good, that he hadn't hurt her or upset her. Women could be so... Well, they were hard for Daryl to understand most of the time. Beth shot him a weak, albeit pleased smile, and that was enough for him. Leaning forward, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before pulling up his pants and fixing his fly. Wouldn't do for someone to discover them just yet.


End file.
